MISINTERPRETATION   OF  PROVIDENCE; 


D  I  S  C  0  U  R  S  E 


Delivered  at  Marblehead,  December,  1846. 


ON    THE 


DISASTERS   AT  SEA,  SEPT.  19,  1846. 


BY    EDWARD    A.   LAWRENCE, 

Pastor  of  the  First  Church  in  Marblehead. 


WITH    AN    APPENDIX, 

CON  \N    ACCOUNT    OF   THE    DEDICATION  OF    THE   MONUMENT, 

ANT)    THE    NAMES    OF    TIIE    PERSONS    LOST    TN 

THAT    TERRIBLE    GALE. 


MARBLEHEAD: 

MERCURY  PRESS,  WASHINGTON  STREET. 

i«48. 


MISINTERPRETATION   OF   PROVIDENCE; 


1)  ISC0UR8E 


Delivered  at  Marblehead,  December,  1846. 


ON    THE 


DISASTERS   AT  SEA,  SEPT.  19,  1846, 


BY    EDWARD    A.   LAWRENCE, 

Pastor  of  the  First  Church  in  Murblehead. 


WITH    AN    APPENDIX, 

CONTAINING    AN    ACCOUNT    OF   THE    PEPIC  VTION  OF    THE   MONUMENT, 

A  XT)    THE    NAMES    OF    TnE    PERSONS    LOST    TN 

TnAT    TERRIBLE    GALE. 


MARBLEHEAD: 
MERCURY  TRESS,  WASHINGTON  STREBT. 


18-iS. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  MASSACHUSETTS 
AT  AMHERST 


UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 

Special  Collections  &  Rare  Books 


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DISCOURSE. 


Genesis  xlii.  3G. 

All  these  things  are  against  me. 


This  is  the  language  of  deep  despondency.  The  venerable  patriarch 
who  makes  use  of  it,  had  arrived  at  that  period  of  life  when  the  grass- 
hopper is  a  burden.  Famine  had  been  added  to  the  bereavement  which 
lie  suffered  from  the  supposed  loss  of  his  son  Joseph.  Simeon  was  now 
detained  a  prisoner  in  Egypt,  he  knew  not  from  what  evil  design,  and 
it  had  become  necessary  for  Benjamin  to  be  carried  down  also.  The 
good  man,  not  perceiving  the  end  whereunto  these  things  "would 
grow,"  misunderstood  the  providences  of  God,  and  construed  them  all 
;ts  against  him.  "  Me  have  ye  bereaved  of  my  children  ;  Joseph  is  not, 
and  Simeon  is  not,  and  ye  will  take  Benjamin  away.  All  these  things 
are  against  me." 

But  how  far  this  inference  was  from  the  true  condition  of  things,  he 
was  soon  to  »ee.  Joseph  was  not  dead,  but  alive,  and  not  only  alive,  but 
well,  and  not  only  well,  but  a  powerful  prince  in  Egypt.  Simeon  was 
indeed  a  prisoner,  but  for  no  evil  purpose.  And  the  requisition  was 
made  for  Benjamin,  only  as  preliminary  to  bringing  into  Egypt  the  pa- 
triarch himself  with  his  numerous  family.  Here  they  are  not  to  be  held 
as  captives  in  the  hands  of  their  conquerors,  but  cherished  with  respect 
and  affection  by  their  brother  whom  they  had  sold  into  bondage,  and  his 
u,  son  that  was  lost  but  now  is  found/'  Thus  Jacob's  desponding  inter- 
pretation of  providence  proved  &  misinterpretation.  Those  things  which 
he  concluded  to  be  against  him,  were  really  for  him.  For,  had  there 
been  no  famine  in  the  land,  he  would  not  have  sent  his  sons  into  Egypt. 
But  had  they  come  not  down  to  Egypt,  they  would  not  have  found  (heir 
brother      And  1>-«1  U..-v  »w,t  f..nn.d  hinu  they  would  have  found  no  corn 


in  Egypt  if  they  had  gone  there;  for  by  his  interpretation  of  the  visions 
of  the  royal  dreamer,  it  was  that  the  seven  years  of  famine  were  pre-an- 
nounced,  and  by  his  direction  that  corn  was  reserved  from  the  preceding 
years  of  plenty.  Hence  the  father  *was  to  be  cherished  by  the  son 
whom  he  had  mourned  as  lost,  and  preserved  by  those  means  which  he 
thought  were  surely  to  destroy  Mm. 

In  a  similar  manner  men  often  misinterpret  the  providences  of  God, 
and  misinterpreting,  they  repine  at  them  and  murmur  when  they 
might  be  acquiescent  and  content.  They  understand  them  not,  because 
they  do  not  so  reflect  upon  them  and  compare  them  with  other 
providential  events,  and  with  the  word  of  God,  as  to  perceive  his  design, 
and  the  ends  which  they  may  be  made  to  subserve.  We,  my  hearers, 
from  the  peculiar  afflictions  which  have  been  recently  brought  upon  us 
by  disasters  upon  the  sea,  are  liable  to  the  same  despondency  and  mis- 
construction. The  last  season  has  been  one  of  universal  sorrow  and  suf- 
fering to  the  citizens  of  this  town.  It  is  my  wish,  in  addressing  y«u 
upon  this  mournful  theme,  to  present  such  thoughts  as  may  be  most 
suited  to  vindicate  the  ways  of  God,  and,  by  leading  to  a  right  interpre*- 
tation  of  these  afflictive  providences,  to  show  wherein  these  things  may  be 
for  rather  than  against  us. 

From  the  earliest  settlement  of  this  town,  its  inhabitants  have  been 
largely  engaged  in  the  fisheries.  At  some  former  periods  in  its  his- 
tory, it  is  said  that  a  hundred  and  fifty  schooners  have  been  em- 
ployed at  one  time  in  this  business.  From  the  disastrous  consequences 
of  the  wars  with  Great  Britain,  the  number  had  becc..:.  very  much 
reduced.     In  the  spring  of  the  present  year,  fifty  v<  read  their 

canvass  to  catch  the  spendthrift  winds,  and  sailing  seven  or  eight  hun- 
dred miles,  a  little  north  of  east,  arrived  at  the  Banks  of  Newfoundland. 
Each  of  these  vessels  contained  seven  men — in  all  three  hundred  and 
fifty.  Here  they  plough  the  tumultuous  prairies,  wherein  are  fattened 
numerous  finny  herds  to  be  "meat"  for  man,  and  dropping  the  reins 
upon  the  neck  of  their  huge  oak-ribbed,  aquatic  steeds,  u  they  cast  in 
the  hook  and  take  up  the  fish  that  first  eometh  up." 

The  vicissitudes  of  the  season  were  much  as  usual  until  the  19th  of 
September.  Two  days  before,  to  the  practised  eye  of  the  mariner,  the 
dark  clouds  lying  along  the  eat<tern  horizon,  and  the  heavy  seas  rolling 
from  the  west,  were  portentous  of  the  approaching  storm.  The  night 
of  the  18th  was  dark  and  foggy  :  in  the  early  part  of  Saturday,  the  19th, 
a  gentle  breeze  arose  and  swept  from  the  bosom  of  the  ocean  the  dense 
fog  which  had  lain  upon  it,  but  which  soon  filled  the  air  with  the  thick 
"  wind  food."     From  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning  till  three  in  the  afteD* 


moon,  the  wind  increased  from  a  mild  zephyr  to  a  violent  gale.     In  the 
meantime  the  men  were  preparing  themselves,  as  b<  -t  the  »orae 

to  ride  out  the  storm,  and  some  to  nm  before  the  wind.     "They  mount 
up  to  heaven, they  go  down  again  to  the  depths;  their  soul  ia  d 
cause  of  trouble.*1     Between  three  and  four  o'clock,  the  wind  suddenly 
changed,  creating  cross-seas,  and  bringing  them  into  that  Bcult 

of  all  conditions   in  which  to  guide  a  Bhip,  a  "place  where  two  seas 
meet."     Now  came  their  hour  of  trial.     They  wen;  in    the    mi  1st  of  a 
furious  gale,  .and  their  ships  were  rolling,  and  leaping,  and  <  reaking,  and 
"staggering  like  a  drunken  man."     Dark  night    was  just   at  hand   to 
wrap  them  in    her  sable    mantle.     Cross-seas  were  striding  over    the 
heaving  bosom  of  the  angry  deep  like  hostile  armies,  and  th<    mad 
surges,  "  lifting  up  their  hands  on  high."  now  rush,  trampling  one  upon 
another,  now  break,  pouring  from  their  top-mast  height  1 
cataract,  before    which    the  sturdiest    ship    could  no  more  stand  than 
the  frailest  bark.       Some  now  cut  their  cables    and  drift.     Son;* 
thrown  upon  their  vessel's  side  and  drift.     Some  ship  a  sea  and  are  dis- 
abled.     Some,  in  the  deep,  dark  night  are  driven  and  dashed,  one  upon 
another,   and  founder  together.     Some   are   thrown  down   once, 
twice,  and  one   three  times,  and  yet  come  upright  again.     That  was  a 
dreadful  night,  in  which, 

"  Tremendous  sea    *     *    *    thou  liftedst  up 
Thy  waves  ou  high,  and,  with  thy  winds  and  storms 
Strange  pastime  took." 

Death,  ghastly,  terrible  death,  stood  frightfully  before  them  ;  screeching 
winds  howled  dismally  around  them.  It  was  a  time  when  men's 
thoughts  ran  with  lightning  speed  far  away  to  their  homes  and  friends; 
husbands  thinking  of  their  wives,  and  fathers  of  their  children  ;  sons  of 
their  dependent  mothers,  and  brothers  of  their  sorrowing  sisters,  whom 
imagination  brings  before  them  clad  in  mourning  weeds,  and  weeping. 
In  that  dread  moment,  how  did  the  mind,  at  a  glance,  survey  the  v. 
past  lite,  and  then  throwing  itself  forward  upon  that  future  world  which 
seemed  so  near,  rest  with  tranquil  hope,  which,  like  an  unmoving  anchor, 
holds  them  in  the  storm  ;  or,  shrink  back  with  dreadful  fear,  as  they  had 
trusted  in  or  neglected  Him,  who  is  man's  only  help  in  timeof  need.  O, 
the  thoughts,  and  feelings,  and  convictions,  and  prayers,  which  rushed 
into  this  terrible  moment,  must  have  made  it  to  the  unprepared,  appalling 
beyond  description.  Fear  came  upon  them  like  an  armed  man,  and  they 
were  "at  their  wit's  end."  * 

A2 


About  twelve  o'clock  the  wind  began  to  "  lull."  "They  cry  unto  the 
Lord  in  their  trouble,  and  he  bringeth  them  out  of  their  distress.  He 
maketh  the  storm  a  calm,  so  that  the  waves  thereof  are  still.  Then  are 
they  glad  because  they  be  quiet." 

But;  alas,  eleven  out  of  the  fifty  vessels  from  this  town,  probably  be- 
tween the  hours  of  four  and  ten  o'clock  on  that  sad  night,  were  lost. 
From  one  out  of  the  eleven,  the  whole  crew  was  taken  off  by  a  vessel 
bound  to  New  York.  From  another,  after  remaining  eleven  days  on  tha 
wreck,  five  were  saved  by  one  of  our  own  fishing  vessels.  On  that 
memorable  night,  sixty-Jive  of  our  fellow  citizens  found  a  watery  grave. 
Of  this  number,  two-thirds  were  heads  of  families,  leaving  forty-three  wid- 
ows and  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  fatherless  children.  Parents  have 
lost  their  sons,  some  of  them  one,  some  two,  and  in  one  or  two  instances 
three.  Sisters  have  been  bereaved,  some  of  an  equally  large  number  of 
brothers.  In  one  case  a  wife  lost  her  husband,  a  brother,  a  son-in-law, 
and  two  sons  of  a  brother.  And  so  many  are  the  families  which  have  been 
bereaved  among  us,  that  it  is  almost  easier  to  number  those  that  are  not 
afflicted  thaa  those  that  are. 

Who  now  can  tell  the  suffering  in  these  families  during  the  period  of 
apprehension  and  suspense  connected  with  this  disaster.  That  same 
right  was  marked  as  an  epoch  on  the  land,  as  well  as  on  the  sea. 
Wives,  and  mothers,  and  sisters  of  those  whose  "  march  was  on  the 
mountain  wave,"  signalized  it  by  tears,  and  sighs,  and  prayers,  and  some 
of  them  by  a  kind  of  presentiment  that  their  friends  would  come  no  more. 
The  raging  winds  drove  "'sleep"  from  their  eyes,  and  seemed  like  the 
wailings  of  grief,  the  dirge  of  those  they  loved.  The  night  taper  seemed 
to  burn  with  a  feebler  light,  casting  fainter  shadows  upon  the  walls, 
which  fear  makes  a  premonition  of  forthcoming  evil.  There  is  a  trem- 
bling solicitude  for  friends  at  sea,  in  a  stormy  night,  which  none  can 
know  but  those  who  are  familiar  with  the  exposures  of  seamen,  and  who 
have  learned  it  from  sxperence. 

As  the  first  unwelco:ne  intelligence  came  to  their  ears,  how  was  this 
painful  apprehension  borne  on  into  tremulous  anxiety.  Like  Hamath 
and  Arpad,  they  are  "confounded,"  "for  they  have  heard  evil  tidings: 
they  are  faint-hearted ;  there  is  sorrow  on  the  sea ;  they  cannot  be 
quiet."  With  what  eager  solicitude,  on  the  return  of  a  vessel  from  the 
scene  of  disaster,  did  they  seek  to  know  if  their  friends  had  been  spoken 
with  or  seen  since  the  gale.  And,  as  intelligence  of  the  loss  of  one  and 
another  of  our  little  fleet  is  brought  home,  there  came  on  in  the  hour  of 
grief,  that  painfn'l  suspense, — distressing  alternation  between  hope  and 
fear, — in  which  now  hope,  now  fear,  prevails,  and  in  which  hope  a  thou- 


nas 
and 

The 

:; 


7 

i.nnd  times  buried,  is  at  often  exhumed.  How  eagerly  do  wives  and 
mothers  seek  l«»r  tidings,  and  yet  alraosl  shrink  from  what  they  leek. 
Children,  too, — with  what  impatience  do  they  hasten  to  the  wharves  to 
inquire  if  anything  lias  been  Beel  or  heard  of  their  lathers  or  brothers' 
Early  oue  morning  alter  an  arrival,  as  a  lad  who  had  sought  in  vain  foi 
tidings  of  his  father,  ran  out  with  eager  hope  of  hearing  something 
wherewith  to  relieve  his  anxious  mother,  lie  learni  d  that  he  had  no  i> 
ther;  that  the  vessel  in  which  Ik;  sailed,  had  been  seen  a  wreck 
lie  can  now  no  more  cheer  his  sorrowing  mother  by  repeating  to  he; 
those  sweet  words:  u  My  father."  That  father  lies  sleeping  in  the  dark 
bosom  of  yonder  deep  sea.  With  a  heart,  bursting  with  grief,  he  turns 
his  steps  towards  his  desolate  home.  But  what  shall  he  do?  How 
he  be  the  bearer  of  such  sad  tidings  to  his  disconsolate  mother.  Yet 
know  it,  he  feels  she  must ;  what  can  he  do?  Restraining  his  grief,  he 
wipes  away  his  tears  and  enters  the  house.  Scarcely  has  he  laid  by  his 
little  cap  and  seated  himself  at  his  morning's  repast,  ere  the  big  tears 
streaming  from  his  eyes,  tell  the  grief  that  he  cannot  rpeak,  in  which 
that  now  despairing  mother  reads,  what,  of  all  things  woman  most  dread-; 
to  know — I  am  a  widow  ;  my  children  are  fatherless.  Thus  the  stroke 
lias  fallen  upon  many  among  us.  Their  husbands,  and  fathers  and  sons 
and  brothers  are  gone,  they  scarcely  know  how,  or  where,  or  when. 
They  have  witnessed  upon  them  no  wasting  disease;  have  listened  to  no 
last  words  of  love.  They  have  seen  no  solemn  funeral  procession  ;  they 
e  heard  no  mournful  tolling  bell,  nor  looked  down  upon  them  when 
consigned  to  the  silent  tomb.  And,  although  told  that  the  watery  wind- 
ing sheet  has  wrapped  them  in  its  capacious  folds,  yet  how  "an  they  be- 
Here  so  sad  a  tale?  Thus  it  is  that  they  sometimes  hope  against  hope, 
— are  so  reluctant  to  bury  their  dead. 

A  season,  marked  with  such  sad  disasters  to  our  marine  population, 
has  probably  never  but  once  before  occurred.  In  the  spring  of  170'.', 
fourteen  vessels,  with  something  over  one  hundred  men,  were  lost  from 
Marblehead.  During  the  preceding  year,  1768,  nine  others  with  most 
of  their  men  met  with  the  same  fate.  In  the  two  years  of  17G8-9,  it  is 
stated,  *  that  twenty-three  vessels  were  lost  from  the  town,  and 
all  the  men  on  board,  one  hundred  and  sixty-two,  besides  a  considera- 
ble number  who  were  washed  overboard  from  vessels  which  returned. 
These  left  seventy  widows  and  one  hundred  and  fifty-five  children.  Add 
to  these  two  years,  the  disasters  of  1846,  and  we  have  an  aggregate 
Joss  sustained  by  the  town  in  three  years,  of  thirty-four  vessels,  two  hun- 

*-See  Rev.  Mr.  Whitwell's  Sermon,  preached  December  l: 


B 

fired  and  twenty-seven  men,  leaving  one  hundred  and  twelve  widow*, 
and  three  hundred  and  five  fatherless  children.  In  the  last  four  years 
inch  ding  the  present,  ninety-nine  men  have  been  removed  from  us  in 
the  same  way,  leaving  sixty-eight  widows  and  two  hundred  and  twenty- 
■one  children  not  over  twelve  years  of  age. 

These  are  the  "  things"  of  which  we  we  are  prone  to  say,  they  "  are 
against  us."  And,  when  I  consider  all  this  sudden  loss  of  property — 
when  I  survey  the  wide  field  of  social  ravage  which  has  been  occasioned* 
and  am  reminded  of  the  hopes  that  are  crushed,  and  the  hearts  that  are 
bleeding;  when  I  enter  the  habitations  of  sorrow  to  "  visit  the  widows  and 
the  fatherless  in  their  afflictions,"  and  see  helpless  infancy  and  childhood 
leaning  for  support  on  such  "  bruised  reeds,"  asking,  in  some  instance?, 
for  bread,  when  there  is  none  to  be  given  save  what  is  received  from 
the  open  hand  of  charity — when  I  contemplate  these  things,  I  am  for 
the  moment,  inclined  to  join  in  the  exclamation  :  "  All  these  things  are 
against  me." 

But,  before  resting  in  such  a  conclusion,  it  were  well  to  inquire  what 
useful  ends  a  wise  Providence  may  have  designed  should  be  answered 
•Yv  these  disasters.  There  is  no  point  of  view  in  which  they  will  lose 
the  reality  of  a  serious  loss, — a  severe  and  grievous  affliction.  But  are 
there  no  considerations  which  may  serve  to  procure  a  more  ready  ae- 
rpriescence  in  them,  by  presenting  to  our  minds  the  good  of  which  an 
overruling  hand  may  make  them  the  means  ?  We  say  it  is  a  great  pe  - 
cuniary  loss,  and  so  it  is.  But  may  not  the  providential  design,  and  the 
tendency  of  this  be  to  a  greater  gain?  If  a  man  loses  a  thousand  dol- 
lars, and  by  that  means,  is  led  so  to  employ  his  capital  and  labor  as  to 
gain  two  thousand,  it  proves  not  so  much  a  loss  in  the  end,  as  the 
means  of  gain,  by  leading  to  an  improved  method  of  prosecuting  his  busi- 
ness. So,  if  there  are  other  practicable  modes  of  investing  capital  and 
-employing  labor,  safer  and  more  lucrative  than  the  fisheries,  may  it  not 
be  one  of  the  lessons  which  God  designs  the  inhabitants  of  this  town 
should  learn  by  this  providence,  to  seek  out  these  practicable  modes? 
And  in  doing  so,  may  it  not  be  that  they  would  find  these  losses,  even 
in  respect  to  their  pecuniary  interests,  for,  instead  of  against  them. 

There  are  two  questions,  which,  in  ascertaining  the  design  of  this  af- 
flictive providence,  should  be  particularly  considered.  One  is  this: — Is 
the  fishing  business  attended  by  any  more  than  the  ordinary  exposure 
of  human  life  ?  The  other  is: — Does  it  yield  to  those  engaged  in  it  the 
»rdi  nary  fruits  of  industry?  Upon  the  answers  to  these  questions,  must 
depend  very  much  the  interpretation  which  we  ought  to  place  upon  our 
late  losses  at  sea.     If  the  vocation  is  ordinarily  safe  and  ordinarily  pro- 


r/t/i-tire,  tin' j  cannot,  be  legitimately  construed  as  provident ially  again? 
tin1  business  itself.     It",  however,a  different  answer  is  forced  upon  as  by 
the  facts  in  the  case,  another  construction  will  not   only  be  lawful,  but 
wise  and  beneficial  ;    in  which  event,  these  things  may  be  againsl 
occupation,  but  nol  against  us.     To  the  first,  let  us  direct  a  moment' 
tention.  , 

[s  the  fishing  business  attended  by   anymore  than  the  ordinar 
posure  oi  human  life?     To  answer  this,  we  need  only  tie-  average  mor- 
tality of  the  men  employed  in  this,  and  thai  of  those  in   the  bmui--  ; 
of  life,  engaged  in  the  various  avocations  on  the  land. 

The    mortality  in  the  town   of  Marblehead  during  the  last  eleven 
years,  including  deaths   at  sea,   has  been  a  little  more  than   two  p< 
cent.  ;   excluding  deaths    at   sea,  it    is   a  little    less   than   two   per    cent. 
Leaving  out  of  account  those  too  young  to  go  to  sea,  and  those  too  old, 
the  mortality  of  the  remainder  who   are  employed  on  the   land  is  about 
one  per  cent.      Compare  with  this,  now,  the  mortality  of  that  class  a 
us,  who  in  this  business,  go  ctown  to  the  sea  in  ships.      For  the    last   2  1 
years  the  average  number  of   men  thus    employed   has  been  about  .V":: 
and  for  the  last  40  years  it  has  been  about    GOO.       During   the    I  I 
years  the  mortality  of  this  class  has  been  two  per  cent,  of  the  600,  and 
for  the  last  eleven  years  it  has  been    considerably   wore  than  the  same 
proportion  of  the  500.      But  it  is  only   about  eight  months  in   the  year, 
at  most,  that  they  are  employed  upon  the  sea  in  the  fishing  businesi  . 
that  their  mortality,  being  two  percent  for  two-thirds  of  the  year,  would 
be  three  per  cent,  for  the  whole  :  while  that  of  other- men,  in   the  same 
period  of  life,  is  only  one  \^t  cent.      The  answer   to    the  first  question, 
then,  is,  that  the  exposure  of  human  life  in  the  pro  n  of  lice  fishing 

business  is  three  times  as  great  as  it  is  in  other  branches  of  industry  pur- 
sued on  the  land.  With  this  result,  every  one  who  entertains  the  ques- 
tion of  going  to  sea.  in  this  calling,  should  be  familiar.  Let  all  under- 
stand that  the  probabilities  of  death  are  as  three  for  those  who  go,  to  *iu 
for  those  who  stay.  Let  them  remember  that  death,  too,  when  it  come  \ 
to  men  at  sea,  is  sudden,  with  no  protracted,  warning  twilight  hour  for 
reflection,  and  that  it  comes  to  them  too  under  circumstances  peculiarly 
afflictive  to  surviving  relatives  and  friends.  "  Deep  ealleth  iinlo  deep' 
and  "they  go  down  quick,"  and  all  we  can  know  of  their  thoughts  and 
emotions  is,  that  we  can  know  nothing. 

Now,  asan  equivalent  for  this  extraordinary  i  f  life,  on  the 

principle  of  making  an  equation  with  human  life  on  the  one  side  and 
mere  property  on  the  other,  the  products  of  labor  and  capital  ought 
k>  be  three  times  greater  in  the  fisheries  than  they  are   when  employed 


10 

on  the  land.  But  is  it  so  ?  Are  the  labors  of  our  fishermen  three  times 
more  productive  than  those  of  landsmen  ?  Does  capital  yield  three 
times  as  much  when  employed  in  this  way  on  the  sea,  as  when  employ- 
ed at  home  ?  A  single  glance  at  the  business  aspects  of  the  town  will 
answer.  The  scores  of  shoresmen  who  have  sunk  their  capital  wholly, 
or  in  part,  answer,  No.  The  testimony  of  our  hardy,  brave,  industrious 
fishermen,  answers,  No.  And  the  many  widows  of  this  class  who  have 
inherited  nothing  from  their  husbands  but  their  honest  poverty,  and 
their  children  to  support  in  that  poverty,  with  emphasis,  will  answer, 
No  —  this  has  not  been  a  more  than  ordinarily  productive  business. 
For  five  years,  said  one  of  these  industrious  men  to  me,  the  avaiTs  of  my 
labor  have  been  no  more  than  sufficient  to  support  myself  alone,  leaving 
nothing  for  my  family.  Said  another,  my  expenditures  for  the  same 
length  of  time,  equalled  all  the  fruits  of  my  toil,  except  half  the  bounty  for 
one  year.  Says  another  still,  who  has  been  to  some  extent  an  owner  of 
vessels,  I  have  been  in  this  business  40  years,  and  for  30  years  I  was 
engaged  on  the  sea.  I  never  lost  a  man,  I  never  shipped  a  sea  to  suffer 
any  injury,  I  have  had  better  success  than  was  common,  and  until  this 
season  have  met  with  no  misfortune  of  any  kind.  I  have  now  lost  a 
single  schooner,  and  am  heft  just  where  I  was  when  I  commenced. 
Surely,  of  such  men,  who  have  been  fishing  all  their  lives,  it  may  be 
said  as  of  the  disciples,  they  have  "caught  nothing." 

By  statistics  of  the  products  of  the  various  branches  of  industry  in  the 
Commonwealth  for  the  year  ending  April,  18-15,  it  appears  that  the  pro- 
ducts of  the  fisheries  in  this  town  were  less  in  value,  in  proportion  to 
the  men  and  capital  employed,  by  one  third,  and  in  some  cases  one  half, 
than  those  received  from  various  other  branches  of  industry.  Should  it  be 
said,  that  men  upon  the  land  are  employed  the  whole  of  the  year,  while 
those  engaged  in  the  fisheries,  are  occupied  only  about  half  or  two-thirds 
of  it,  it  will  be  admitted.  But  it  should  be  remembered  that  in  other 
avocations  the  same  rate  of  capital  produces,  in  many  cases  one-third  or 
one-half  greater  real  valuation,  with  some  times  only  half  the  amount  of 
labor.  Besides,  it  may  be  one  objection  to  this  branch  of  industry  that 
it  employs  the  capital  invested  in  it  only  a  portion  of  the  year,  and 
another,  that  it  so  employs  it  as  to  unfit  some  of  the  men  for,  or  in  part 
shut  them  out  from  productive  labor  the  other  portion. 

But  have  not  other  towns  been  more  successful  in  the  business  than 
this  ?  I  answer— some  may  have  been,  and  some  of  them,  as  it  appears 
from  the  -statistics  above  referred  to,  not  so  much  so.  The  value 
of  products,  in  proportion  to  the  number  of  men,  and  the  capital 
employed  in  the  cod-fisheries,  is  less  than  that  of  almost  any  other  of  tlv\ 


11 

ordinary  branches  of  industry.  And  it  is  less  than  the  average  product! 
of  all  the  manufacturing  branches  together  in  the  Common  wealth,  by  at 
least  one-third,  or  one-half.  And  this  too  while  the  exposure  of  life  in 
this  one,  entitles  those  engaged  in  it  to  a  product  of  labor  three  times  as 
great  as  that  received  in  others. 

It  is  a  law  of  providence  well  accredited  in  the  business  world,  that 
ordinary  industry  should  be  rewarded  with  the  ordinary  fruits  of  in- 
dustry. It  is  also  another  law  of  providence  well  received  in  that  Bame 
business  world,  that  the  fruits  of  industry  should  be  in  proportion  to  the 
hazard  of  life  and  property  necessarily  connected  with  it.  Now,  "it 
would  seem  that  in  the  continuance  of  the  fishing  business  among  us, 
both  these  laws  of  providence  have  been  disregarded.  Neither  labor 
nor  capital  are  as  productive  here  as  they  ought  to  be.  Not  that  this 
should  be  esteemed  other  than  as  a  strictly  honest  employment.  But,  in 
view  of  facts,  the  question  may,  and  I  believe  ought  to  be  asked,  wheth- 
er it  is  an  expedient  one.  Providence  would  that  men  should  labor,  but 
he  would  not  that  they  should  labor  in  vain.  Is  it  wise  to  continue  in 
such  a  perilous  and  unproductive  pursuit?  Is  it  adapting  means  to 
ends  with  that  practical  wisdom  of  which  increasing  facilities  now  afford 
abundant  opportunity  ?  I  will  even  ask  if  it  is  right  to  risk  so  much  to 
gain  so  little  —  needlessly,  to  so  great  an  extent,  to  throw  away  human 
labor  and  human  life  ?  May  not  such  violations  of  the  laws  of  provi- 
dence, be  expected,  in  some  way  to  meet  with  the  rebukes  of  provi- 
dence? Why  else  is  it  that  this  respectable  class  of  our  fellow  citizens, 
when  they  are  removed  from  among  us,  are  obliged,  in  so  large  a  pro- 
portion of  instances,  to  leave  in  charge  with  the  charitable,  their  desti- 
tute widows  and  children?  They  have  ordinarily  performed  labor 
enough  to  have  left  them  above  such  dependence.  They  have  risked 
ther  lives,  and  boldly  braved  the  dangers  of  the  ocean  in  a  manner  mer- 
iting easy,  if  not  affluent  circumstances.  And  such,  I  doubt  not,  would 
have  been  the  condition  of  not  a  few  of  these  bereaved  families,  at 
the  present  time,  had  the  industry  of  the  lost  husbands  and  fathers 
been  directed  into  channels,  from  which  they  could  have  received  the 
ordinary  fruits  of  industry.  When,  under  these  circumstances,  such 
extraordinary  providential  disasters  seem  to  be  against  us,  is  it  not  more 
prudent  to  consider  them  as  premonitory  lessons  mercifully  designed, 
for  our  "correction"  in  business,  as  well  as  '-instruction  in  righteousness  ?" 
Sure  I  am,  that,  if  the  inhabitants  of  this  town,  engaged  in  this  compara- 
tively profitless  pursuit,  shall  be  led  by  these  so  uncommon  reverses,  to 
turn  their  labor  and  capital  into  other  safer  and  more  productive  chan_ 
nels,  they  will  see  that  these  things  are  not  all  against  them.      A  few 


12 

luen  of  a  former  generation  may  have  grown  rich  in  gathering  of  "the 
abundance  of  the  sea."  But  it  is  quite  certain  that  the  men  of  this  gen- 
eration, with  an  exception  or  two,  are  not  doing  so.  Between  ill 
success,  and  wrecks,  and  losses,  poverty  is  coming  upon  them  like  an 
armed  man.  The  voice  of  God  to  them,  upon  the  sea,  is  for  their  pre- 
sent, as  well  as  future  benefit.  lie  hath  his  "  way  in  the  whirlwind," 
and  the  "stormy  wind"  is  "fulfilling  his  word." 

I  have  spoken  these  things,  not  for  merely  financial  purposes,  as  a 
pander  to  sordid  avarice,  to  secularize,  this  afflictive  dispensation,  by 
making  it  subservient  to  an  imsanctified  desire  of  gain.  But  I  say  them 
as  being  closely  connected  with  the  providence  of  God  in  this  sad  disas 
ter,  and  as  tending  to  make  more  plain  the  instructions  which  it  is  his 
design  to  communicate.  I  speak  as  I  believe  in  perfect  harmony  with  the 
voice  of  this  providence,  and,  by  giving  it  more  distinct  articulation,  to 
ur^e  its  salutary  lessons.  I  speak  in  behalf  of  the  social,  intellectual 
and  moral,  as  well  as  financial  interests  of  this  whole  class  of  our  fellow 
citizens. 

But  there  are  other  bereavements  connected  with  this  visitation  of 
God,  more  afflictive  than  the  loss  of  property.  Sixty-five  men,  who 
were  among  the  most  industrious  and  worthy  of  our  townsmen,  have 
been  suddenly  removed  from  this  to  the  eternal  world.  With  some  of 
them  my  comparatively  brief  acquaintance  had  been  sufficient  to  awaken 
in  me  a  more  than  ordinary  interest.  Some  were  exemplary  members 
of  the  Christian  church.  The  Christian  hope  was  their  sure  and  stead- 
fast "anchor-"  The  word  of  the  Lord  was. their  "  compass,"  and  their 
unslumbering  pilot,  He 

"  That  rebuked  and  controlled  the  proud  waves  at  His  will, 
And  spoke  "  peace"  to  the  tempest  and  bade  it  be  still.7' 

Others  belonged  to  one  or  more  of  the  various  social,  literary  or  moral 
societies  which  exist  among  us.  And  all  of  them,  as  husbands,  as  fath- 
ers, as  sons  or  brothers,  were  bound  to  life  by  the  strongest  ties  of  nature 
and  of  affection.  But  these  bonds  could  not  hold  them  to  life.  They 
have  gone  from  us.  In  an  hour  of  fearful  struggle,  opposing  vain  re- 
sistance to  the  winds  and  waves,  they  went  down  quick,  and  we  see  them 
no  more.  Their  graves  are  in  yonder  deep ;  their  memories  in  the 
hearts  of  those  they  loved.  By  a  suitable  monument,  sacred  to  that 
memory,  erected  in  yonder  ancient  burial  ground,  let  the  knowledge  of 
this  calamity,  in  which  they  perished,  be  transmitted  to  future  genera- 
lions. 


13 

To  i  I  to-day,  witnesses  that 

He  hath  broughl    '  »hall  have  no  occa- 

sion to  I  ••  lli'; 

have 

.11.      May  tiic  , 
Qg — 

.  ihor,  all  sto 

ail,  i.     'h  the  haven  of ; 
iorc  fear 
-  \Y  renie,  then  i 

Bui  >ws,  and  these  children  left  fatherless,  and 

!      How  can  these  things  but  be  against 
them  ?     I  answer,  in  the  >f  their  Author  and  in  the  ends  which 

lited  to  s  So  far  as  they  may  have  been  in  rebuke, 

the  design  of  them  is  to   lead  to  i  .      Wherein  they  may  have 

been  in  judgm.  they  may  learn  righteousness.     And  as  a 

chastisement,  they  are  for  the  correction  and  improvement  of  his  people. 
It  is  -  lows  in  their  afflictions  to  make  the  Lord  their  hus- 

band, and  to  teach  the  children  to  seek  a  father  in  Him,  and  the  depen- 
dent mothers  to  loan  on  one  who  is  a  more  sure  support  than  many  son?. 
And  is  that  against  them  which- is  suited  in  its  tendency  and  design  to  do 
this  for  them  ?  Is  not  reliance  on  God  better  than  to  trust  in  man,  and  his 
favor  more  try  children  ?    God  has  many  ways  whereby  to  bring 

good  to  men,  of  which  affliction  is  by  no  means  the  least  common  or  effec- 
tual. And  lie,  to  whom  belongeth  "the  silver  and  the  gold,"  has  re- 
sources out  of  which  to  provide  for  his  poor,  of  which  they  know  little. 
When  he  has  said,  "commit  thy  fatherless  children  to  me,  and  I  will  keep 
them  alive,  and  let  thy  widows  trust  in  me,"  think  you  "  the  labor  of 
the  olive  shall"  wholly  "fail"  to  them,  "  and  the  field  yield  no  meat?'' 
How,  already,  has  He  in  wliose  hands  are  the  hearts  of  all  men,  turned 
some  of  those  hearts  in  a  sympathizing  charity  towards  these  afflicted 
poor !  How  have  their  wants  been  promptly  met  by  this  ready  sympa- 
thy, even  before  we  had  need,  or  time  almost  to  ask  in  their  behalf,  for 
aid !  The  tribute  of  our  heartfelt  acknowledgment  for  that  generous  vol- 
untarily proffered  assistance,  is  due  to  those  friends  of  humanity  in  the 
neighboring  cities  and  towns  from  whom  it  has  been  received.  We 
thank  them  for  their  timely  liberal  aid ;  and  not  less  for  their  warm 
active  sympathy — in  the  name  of  humanity,  and  of  these  sufferers,  we 
thank  them.  We  tell  them  that  "  he  that  giveth  to  the  poor  lendeth  to 
the  Lord,  and  although  many  of  them  are  personally  unknown  to  us, 
yet  that  He  who  seeth  in  secret  shall  reward  them  openly. 


14 

And  we  hope  that  those  who  may  receive  these  benefactions,  will  not 
find  them  the  best  things  conferred  in  their  afflictions.      There  is,  than 
these,  a  more  "  enduring  substance."     The  "true  riches,"  an  incorrupt- 
ible inheritance;  of  which  He  who  is  the   heir  of  all  things  will  make 
them  the  possessors  who  seek  him  in  trouble.     Whosoever  enquireth  in 
his  sorrow,  "  where  is  God  my  Maker,  who  giveth  songs  in  the  night  ?" 
shall  be  enabled  to  sit  tranquil  in  the  deepest  gloom,  and  say,  "  Though 
he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  him."      Yes,  bereaved  friends,   in  the 
thickest  darkness,  there  is  onewho  can  cause  to  spring  up  the  sweetest  and 
most  cheering  light.     And  out  of  the  greatest  afflictive  evil,  there  is  one 
who  can  bring  the  greatest  spiritual  good.     He  takes  us  from  our  earth- 
ly dependencies,  that  he  may  place  us  upon  a  heavenly  reliance, — turns 
us  from  our  broken  cisterns,  that  he  may  lead  us  to  the  living  fountain. 
He  rends  the  harp  strings  of  the  human  spirit  only   that  he  may  tune 
them  into  a  sweeter  harmony  with  the  symphonies  of  heaven.      These 
things  against  us?      No,  they  are  not  surely  in  their  design  against  us. 
Construed  against  our  follies  and  mistakes  they  ought  to  be.    Against  our 
sins  they  are,  but  against  us,  if  we  improve  them,  they  are  not  and  can- 
not be.     Our  merciful  Father  rebukes  not  to  injure,  but  for  our  correc- 
tion.    His  chastisements  are  not  in  anger  to  his  people,  but  in  love. 
He  is  ready  to  give  you  much  more  and  better  things  than  these  which 
he  has  taken  from  you,  and  thereby  lead  you,  reversing  the  desponding 
language  of  the  patriarch,  exultingly  to  say,  "  none  of  these  things  are 
against  me,"  "  all  things  shall  work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love 
God."     "  The  Lord  gave  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away,  blessed  be  the 
name  of  the  Lord." 


APPENDIX 


The  monument  is  composed  of  a  block  of  clear  white  marble,  ten 
feet  high,  resting  upon  a  firm  granite  base,  and  surmounted  by  a  pyra- 
mid, five  feet  high,  making  the  height  of  the  whole  from  the  base,  fif- 
teen feet.  It  is  placed  upon  an  eminence  in  the  Old  Burying  Ground, 
and  is  visible  from  ten  to  fifteen  miles  at  sea.  It  does  honor  to  the 
society  which  has  erected  it,  to  the  good  taste  of  the  Committee,  and  the 
skill  of  the  architects,  and  it  will  remain  one  of  the  most  interesting 
objects  of  attention  to  the  coming  generations  of  our  population  that  the 
town  contains. 

The  religious  solemnities  on  the  occasion  of  the  erection  of  the  monu- 
ment were  the  following : 

1.  Singing  by  the  Marblehead  Singing  Society. 

2.  Invocation,  by  Rev.  Mr.  Dana. 

3.  Reading  of  the  Scripture,  by  Rev.  Mr.  Breare. 

4.  Singing. 

5.  Address,  by  Rev.  Mr.  Lawrence. 

6.  Prayer,  by  Rev.  Mr.  Smith. 

7.  Singing. 

8.  Benediction,  by  Rev.  Mr.  Ballard. 


16 

» 

INSCRIPTIONS   ON  THE  MONUMENT 


[On  the  North  Side.] 

MONUMENT 

Erected  A.  D.,  1848. 
By  the 

MARBLEHEAD  CHARITABLE 

SEAMEN'S   SOCIETY. 

Instituted  February  12,  1831. 

IN    MEMORY    OF 

ITS    DECEASED    MEMBERS. 

On  Shore  and  at  Sea. 


|  On  the  South  Side.] 

Lost  at  Sea. 

1831 — Nicholas  G.  Adams,  John  D.  Dennis,  John  Goodwin,  3d., 

Phillip  B.  Millet,  Winslow  Ramsdell,  Bartholomew 

Francis,  Samuel  Snow. 

1832 — Benjamin  Ramsdell,  John  F.  Green,  John  Millet. 

1833 — William  Francis. 

1834 — Benjamin   A.  Richardson,   Thomas   H.   Adams,   Robert 

Devereux,  Jr. 

1836 — Robert  E.  Vickery.         1838 — Benjamin  Nowland. 

1839 — Robert  Cloutman. 

1840 — Nathaniel  H.  Atkins,  Benjamin  F.  Doliber,  Benjamin 

Russell. 

1842 — Aaron  B.  Knapp,  William  Lasket,  Thomas  Powers. 

1943 — John  Goodwin,  Jr.  1844 — Philip  Bridgeo. 

1845 — William  Crowninshield,  John  Brown,  Thomas  Trefry. 

1847 — Thomas  Felton.        1848 — Nicholas  Tucker,  Jr. 


17 


[East  Side.] 

Lost  on  the  Grand  uLland  in  the  Memorable  Gale  <>/ 

•  ■/•  L9,  L846: 

Joseph  C.  Bowi  William  Girdi 

1    Bridg  Willi  \  \i   L.  Hoo 

Charles  Ch  u>\  M<>  by. 

John'    Con;  riS.  OSM  w   (  '    STAC 

Samuel  Dodd,  3d.  Francis  C.  Stephi 

Benjamin  Dodd.  ry. 

Thomas   Doliber.  Edward   F.  Tin 

Whole  number  lost  from  Marblehead  in  the  £ale,  65  men  and  boys  ;  43 

heads  of  families,  leaving  43  widows.  155  fatherless  children. 

"ffite  sea  shall  give  up  the  dead  that  are  in  it." 


[West  Side.] 

On  Shore. 

1836 — Tpiomas  Cloutman,  Richard  Girdler. 

1  837 — William  Adams,  Richard  B.  Carswell,  William  Reed. 

1838— William  P.  Brown.         1839— Samuel  Collyer. 

1840— Thomas  Follett. 

1844 — John  Nutting,  James  Oliver,  Benjamin  Pedrick,  Joseph 

Phillips. 

1845 — George  Chinn,  William  Goodwin,  Jonas  D.  Homan. 

1846 — William  B.  Adams,  Robert  B.  Chinn. 

1847 — Isaac  Collyer,  Christopher  Grant. 

"  All  that  are  in  their  graves  shall  hear  His  voice,  and  shall  come  forth." 


18 


The  following  Vessels  were  lost  with  their  Crews,  September  19,  1846, 
leavi  "j  43  widows,  and  155  children: 


John  Cross, 
Edward  Homan, 


Ebenezer  Lecraw, 
George  LeMaster, 


Samuel  Dodd, 
David  Peirce, 


Charles  Chadwick, 
John  Gilbert, 


William  Hooper, 
John  D.  Bowden, 


Francis  Stevens, 
Osmyn  Stacey, 


John  Trefry, 
Benjamin  Martin, 


Sans  Standley,  2d., 
Benjamin  Dodd, 


In  the  schooner  Pacific. 

Eleazer  Leach, 
Isaac  Wadden, 
Robert  Devereux, 

In  the  schooner  Liberty. 

John  Lancey, 
Thomas  Doliber, 
Richard  Goss, 

In  the  schooner  Sabine. 

Joseph  Homan, 
Edward  H.  Dixey, 
Henry  Pitman. 

In  the  schooner  Senator. 

Joseph  Graves, 
Edward  Dixey,  Jr., 
Elisha  D.  Pedrick, 

In  the  schooner  Zela. 

John  White,  2d., 
Samuel  Blackler,  Jr., 
Amos  Humphrey, 

In  the  schooner  Minerva. 

William  Wooldridge, 
Philip  Trasher, 
Archibald  Sinclair, 

In  the  schooner  Salus. 

Joseph  Atkins, 
Thomas  Pedrick, 
William  Girdler, 

In  the  schooner  Warrior. 
Moses  Peachy, 
Edward  Humphrey, 
William  Blackler. 


John  Hunt, 
John  Bates. 


Samuel  Graves, 
Robert  Blare. 


Benj.  Garney, 
Nicholas  Florence. 


Mark  H.  Giles, 
John  Glover. 


Thomas  Caswell,  Jr. 
John  Wallace. 


Michael  Phillips, 
Browno  Aleanda. 


Fred'c  Donalson,  Jr. 
John  Green. 


George  Bridgeo, 
Samuel  Goodwin. 


19 

///  the  sch 

William  Bridget),  Edward  F.  Trefry,  lliam  [Jar 

John  Roads,  James  J 

/  ■   'inton. 

John  White,  3d.,  Nehemiah  Stone,  3d. 

In  the  schooner  Good  Exchange — 1845. 

John  Green,  John  A.  Anderton,  Richard  Caswell, 

Thomas  Trefry,  William  Bartlett,  William  B.  Brown. 

In  the  schooner  James  Mugford — 1847. 

Robert  B.  Mason,  Benjamin  Hawkes,  William  Green,  Jr. 

Thomas  Felton,  Simon  Gordon,  Abraham  Clough. 

Thomas  Roundey,  Jr. 

From  1768  to  1770,  the  town  lost  23  vessels  and  all  their  crews 
amounting  to  1G2  men,  who  left  70  widows  and  155  children. 


